


Deep inside

by AliceAyres



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Romance, Body Worship, First Time, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Murder Husbands, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Soft Dirty Talk, kind of, love love love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5619601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceAyres/pseuds/AliceAyres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is self-conscious about the scar Dolarhyde gave him. Hannibal loves everything about him.</p><p>----</p><p>“My fondness for you,” Hannibal hesitates for a second. “Does it bother you?”</p><p>The tension is so thick Will thinks he could cut it with a knife. </p><p>“No,” Will answers and his own honesty surprises him. “No, it doesn’t.”</p><p>“I ache for you,” Hannibal confesses and sighs. He puts the dishes back in the sink and turns slowly, watching Will’s raised shoulders and the way he curves his body, tense. “I know you know it, Will. I am just confirming a fact. Does it bother you now?”</p><p>Will thinks about standing up and leaving, but realizes he doesn’t want to. He looks down, to his own hands, and feels dizzy because of the alcohol - still dancing in his veins. </p><p>“No,” he whispers. Hannibal’s footsteps are calm but loud, showing him he is coming closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep inside

**Author's Note:**

> HEY!
> 
> I was like "what if a wrote a drabble about Will's scar?". Well, turns out it was not a drabble. Here, guys, have 6.000 words of gay love. <3
> 
> Important: English is NOT my first language, so I bet there are some grammar mistakes in here. It was not beta'd, by the way. Please, tell me if you see something strange. :) Thanks!

* * *

 

**Deep inside**

 

“Will you forgive me someday?” Hannibal asks when they are having dinner, his voice so casual Will stares and blinks, unsure of what he has just heard. Hannibal offers him a smirk. “I asked you if you think you will ever be able to forgive me.”

 

“I have,” Will mutters and looks down again, focusing on his beautiful plate. He was hungry before. Not anymore. “What is this? Squid?”

 

“Octopus,” Hannibal narrows his eyes, watching Will’s face and the way he twists his lips. He looks so pretty all the time - it is unfair, Hannibal thinks. Unfair and tempting. “You haven’t forgiven me. When we decided to come here, I knew I would have to be patient with you because of your resentfulness. I felt, however, it would change after a few months. I was wrong.”

 

“No, you weren’t,” Will sighs and scratches his nape, uncomfortable. He feels the weight of Hannibal’s gaze and turns his head softly to the side, trying to hide from the power of it. “I talk to you all the time, Hannibal. We eat together, we share the living room every night - we talk about your books, I tell you about my childhood, I… I don’t know what you mean. Really.”

 

“You flinch when I try to come closer to you,” Hannibal observes. He takes a sip of his wine and licks his bottom lip. “I am not saying I am not satisfied with the things you offer me, Will. If this is all you think you can give me, I will gladly take it. What I am saying is that you avert being next to me. Are you afraid I will attack you? Do you think I would do such a thing?”

 

“What are you saying?” Will asks, almost offended. Hannibal raises an eyebrow, genuinely confused. Will looks at him, head still down, eyes _begging_  him to change the subject. “I don’t think you will attack me, Hannibal, Jesus. Where did it come from? If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already. You could kill in my sleep. You could poison the food - I mean, no. I don’t think you would. You wouldn’t ruin the meat, would you?”

 

“I knew it,” Hannibal sounds almost sad, but not surprised. He shakes his head. “Do you see it? You still think I would eat you.”

 

“Well, you’ve tried before,” Will accuses and snorts. “Stop, this is not what I meant. You can’t expect me to forget these things - I can’t. I will never forget them, even because I am pretty sure you think about them all the time. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen, but it helps if you just, you know, stop talking about them over dinner. You don’t have to do it. I don’t want to do it.”

 

“I apologize,” Hannibal says, defeated. He takes a forkful of the mushroom risotto and eats it. The food is tasteless for the first time.

 

The dinner goes on in complete silence for a few minutes.

 

“This squid thing is really good,” Will offers him, almost gentle. Hannibal tries to smile.

 

\------------

 

Will thinks about shaving. It has been months - or years, he is not sure - since the last time he saw his own skin.

 

He touches his beard, pinching the long hairs of it, and feels way too old. He looks careless and very tired - and deep inside, he doesn’t think the beard is the only reason for it. He licks his lips and wheezes, unsettled.

 

He holds the blade and watches it. He gives it a try. He shaves without thinking again and regrets it the moment the scar appears, strong and proud, on his right cheek. He touches it with his fingertips and tries, for the tenth time, to convince himself it doesn’t look that bad. It does, though.

 

He finishes it and throws the blade in the trash can.

 

\--------------

 

“You look twenty,” Hannibal praises him from behind the counter, apron around his waist, tomatos in one of his hands. He smiles and let his eyes wander, analyzing Will’s beautiful frame and the way his clothes hug his body. “I feel envious.”

 

“Don’t be,” Will assures him and shakes his head. He opens the fridge and takes out a beer, opening it. He takes a sip. Hannibal watches him, perceiving his tense shoulders. “I don’t like my face when I shave. I look like a kid and - I like my beard. I will definitely grow it back. Shit happens when you are bored.”

 

Hannibal smirks.

 

“I like your face anyway,” Hannibal says and Will laughs, caught by surprise. Hannibal almost purrs. “Don’t laugh, I am serious.”

 

“Thanks,” Will drinks a little more and produces a sound of happiness. “Do you mind if I drink before dinner? I really feel like having a few beers today. My mind is not working properly - it won’t shut up.”

 

“Of course not,” Hannibal concedes. He reaches for his glass of wine. “As you can see, I love the sweet embrace of alcohol.”

 

“Hannibal Lecter,” Will teases. “If I didn’t know you well enough, I would say you are addicted to it.”

 

“I am addicted to many things,” Hannibal teases back, smirking. “You have to pick up your poison, isn’t it what they say?”

 

“You are getting too post-modern,” Will jokes and comes a little closer to him. He raises his hand. “Let’s have a toast.”

 

“For?” Hannibal raises his hand too.

 

“I don’t know,” Will laughs and shrugs. Hannibal swallows back a sigh. “Give me a nice idea.”

 

“Let’s have a toast for your face,” Hannibal sees the way Will tenses, but doesn’t say anything about it. “I hope it will convince you to shave more often. Changes are good for the soul.”

 

“Thanks,” Will’s smile fades. He takes a sip of his beer after the toast and looks down, focusing on the chopped vegetables on the counter. “Are we turning into vegetarians?”

 

“My compassion for you is inconvenient,” Hannibal answers and Will laughs. He finishes his can and opens the fridge again, looking for another beer, unaware of Hannibal’s eyes on his back.

 

\------------

 

When dinner is finally served, Will is drunk. Hannibal, a little inebriate himself, is delighted by the way the younger man talks and talks, gesticulating a lot.

 

“This is delicious,” Will praises, eating a forkful of his dinner and _moaning_  his appreciation.

 

Hannibal gulps and closes one of his fists. His eyes travels all over Will’s face, analyzing the beautiful features, the plumpness of his lips, the slight curve of his eyebrows. It is impressive how, after all these years, Hannibal still feels like he is seeing that gorgeous physiognomy for the first time.

“The last time I’ve eaten this, I was--” Will stops himself and shakes his head. Hannibal gestures him to go on. “Nevermind. The food is delicious.”

 

“You can tell me, Will,” Hannibal encourages him gently, feeling his incertitude. “Where were you?”

 

“I was with Molly,” he says, biting his bottom lip when Hannibal cocks an eyebrow and nods. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said such a thing. That’s why I can’t drink.”

 

“It is okay,” Hannibal assures him and drinks a little more wine, earning some time to swallow down his jealousness. He hums. “You don’t have to pretend it is not part of your history, Will. I suppose you miss your dogs, the domesticity of your old life, your… little family. It is comprehensive. I can’t give you these things. Except, maybe, one dog. Someday.”

 

“Are we thinking about expanding our family?” Will jokes, but his eyes are shining. Hannibal thinks about stealing their neighbors’ dog.

 

“I said one,” Hannibal concedes and Will bursts into laughter, so happy Hannibal feels his heart constrict. “I have never seen you like this, Will. I suppose I should buy you beers more often. I will introduce you to Danish beer, if you feel inclined to taste something a little stronger.”

 

“Sommelier and master brewer?” Will teases. “You never fail to impress, doctor.”

 

Hannibal stares at him, enamoured, so deeply bewitched Will can feel it leaving him in weaves. Will licks his lips and looks down, uncomfortable.

 

“I apologize,” Hannibal is remorseless, but his voice sounds sweet. He stands up slowly. “Are you satisfied, Will? May I clean the table?”

 

“Sure,” Will nods, playing with his curls, still a little shy. Hannibal is surprised with the sudden change is his behaviour. “I will wash the dishes for you.”

 

“There’s no need to do it,” Hannibal assures him and removes their plates, depositing them in the sink. He puts his apron on again and watches Will’s back. “Can I ask you something, Will?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Hannibal tests the temperature of the water, giving himself some time to think. He inhales.

 

“My fondness for you,” Hannibal hesitates for a second. “Does it bother you?”

 

The tension is so thick Will thinks he could cut it with a knife.

 

“No,” Will answers and his own honesty surprises him. “No, it doesn’t.”

 

“I ache for you,” Hannibal confesses and sighs. He puts the dishes back in the sink and turns slowly, watching Will’s raised shoulders and the way he curves his body, tense. “I know you know it, Will. I am just confirming a fact. Does it bother you now?”

 

Will thinks about standing up and leaving, but realizes he doesn’t want to. He looks down, to his own hands, and feels dizzy because of the alcohol - still dancing in his veins.

 

“No,” he whispers. Hannibal’s footsteps are calm but loud, showing him he is coming closer.

 

The older man grabs him by the hair, tilting his head back. Will blinks, surprised, and meets Hannibal’s face. He’s looking at him from above, hands still wet, apron still on. He looks aroused and unsure, delighted and scared - all at the same time. It impresses Will how much Hannibal can show with his eyes and eyebrows.

 

“I will kiss you now,” Hannibal announces, almost smiling when Will shivers and remains still, accepting the awkward position they are in. “Does it bother you?”

 

“No.” Will surrenders.

 

“Good,” Hannibal praises and bends to press his lips against Will’s.

 

For a moment, no one moves. Will tentatively puts one of his hands on Hannibal’s chest and tilts his head to the side. Then, he moans.

 

Hannibal loses it.

 

He licks Will’s lips hungrily, feeling warmness spread all over his body when Will opens his mouth. Their tongues meet and soon they are groaning, excited about the new situation and finally - finally! - able to kill the tension between the two of them. Hannibal massages Will’s scalp with his fingertips, pressing all the right points, and Will feels like his whole body is alight. He opens a few buttons of Hannibal’s shirt and shoves his hand inside, purring when he feels the hotness of his chest chair.

 

Hannibal growls and grabs him by his shirt, obliging him to stand up. Will stumbles, confused, and produces a loud sound when he is raised from the ground and deposited onto the dining table. Hannibal spreads his legs and finds his way between them, pressing their bodies together and attacking his neck with bites, licks and rough kisses.

 

“Jesus,” Will gasps, holding the table with strong fingers, so aroused his head is spinning. He was definitely not used to being manhandled, but the experience was far from unpleasant.

 

“I love your smell,” Hannibal whispers, sucking a bruise on his jugular. Will swallows hard, trembling, and just exposes his neck a little more. Hannibal’s breathing is getting erratic and his pants are way too tight. When he presses his pelvis against Will’s, he realizes he is not the only one who is aroused.

 

Will holds his breath when he feels Hannibal’s erection against his own. He closes his eyes, hands still tight on the edge of the table, and waits. Hannibal growls, licking his now sweaty skin, and touches one of Will’s thighs. He feels it when his muscles constrict and prepares to withdraw, but decides to remain there when Will lets out a shaky breath and spreads his legs a little more. Hannibal murmurs his approval and goes back to kissing Will in the mouth.

 

They kiss wildly for a while, exchanging breaths, biting at lips. Will is pulsating inside of his shorts, desperate for contact, but he doesn’t dare asking for it. Hannibal, as if reading his mind, lets his hand slip. He squeezes Will’s member, still clothed, and earns a long moan in response. Feeling motivated, Hannibal opens the buttons of his shorts and shoves his hand inside.

 

Will clings to him and hides his face in Hannibal’s neck. He groans against it, moving his hips, enjoying the way Hannibal knows exactly where to press to send shivers down his spine. He trembles when the older man slips the foreskin to slide his thumb on the wet tip, teasing. Hannibal loves the way his fingers are getting slick, and his mouth waters when he thinks about stimulating Will’s cock with his tongue.

 

“Do you taste as good as you smell?” Hannibal asks in a low voice, smiling when Will curses against his neck. “I want to taste you.”

 

“Too much,” Will gasps, nails digging in the meat of Hannibal’s shoulders. “I can’t - I can’t even think straight.”

 

“Perfect,” Hannibal says, smug. “Let me take off your clothes, Will.”

 

Hannibal withdraws his hand and moves away, obligating Will to remove his face from his shoulder. They stare at each other and Hannibal smiles and bends to kiss Will’s chin.

 

“Let me lay you in my bed,” he says, brushing his lips on Will’s soft skin. “I will worship every part of you. I will discover all the places that make you shiver and make you come so many times you will forget there is a world outside my bedroom.”

 

“Fuck,” Will curses, shaking, and close his eyes. Hannibal kisses his lips a few times, enjoying their intimacy.

 

Then, he moves to kiss Will’s scar. He kisses it once, twice, thrice.

 

Will jumps, opening his eyes, and gets rid of Hannibal’s embrace. The latter blinks, surprised by his reaction.

 

“Will?”

 

“I can’t,” he stutters, visibly nervous, and looks down. Hannibal frowns, confused, and puts his hands on Will’s thighs, offering him some support. “I am drunk, Hannibal. This is not a good moment for us to - don’t. Please.”

 

“Of course,” Hannibal mutters and withdraws. Will jumps from the table, clumsy, and rubs his face with his palms. “Did I cross a line with you, Will?”

 

“It’s alright, Hannibal,” Will refuses to answer. He just shakes his head and fix his clothes, nervous and ashamed. His scar feels hot, like it was fresh and was still oozing blood. “Thank you for dinner. And for our conversation, I… must sleep. My head is spinning. Good night.”

 

He turns on his heels and leaves the kitchen. Hannibal stays still for a while, thinking about what have just happened. He brings his hand to his face and licks it, savoring the remains of Will’s taste, and decides he _needs_  more of it.

 

Beautiful, delicious Will. Will, who ran away with him and gave him his reputation, his soul, his entire life. Hannibal bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. Did he run away because of Hannibal’s words or because of his actions? He was enjoying everything before --

 

It clicks.

 

Hannibal’s mouth turns into a perfect “o”.

 

_Foolish boy._

 

\--------------

 

Will tosses and turns, but can’t find sleep. He gives up after a few hours and sits by the large window. He admires the Argentine sea and closes his eyes after a while, concentrating on the sound the waves make when they hit the shore.

 

They have a beautiful life there. Will can fish, play with the dogs of the neighborhood, eat well, swim. Hannibal can read his books in beautiful places, discover new seasonings, conquer the hearts of every old lady in town with his gentleness and do what he loves - everything that he loves - with discretion. He looks happy when Will is around. He looks satisfied with their arrangement, but Will knows he wants more.

 

Will wants more too.

 

He sighs, then open his eyes and scans the room, looking for his pack of cigarettes. He is not a smoker, not really - but tobacco has a soothing effect on him. And he needs it. He needs it a fucking lot.

 

His fingertips touch his scar. He traces it bitterly, still annoyed with its length and thickness. Will was never a vain person, but the mark Dolarhyde left him with was a massive punch in his ego. The idea of letting someone see it was bad - the idea of letting someone touch it was even worse.

 

Even if said person was Hannibal Lecter.

 

He lights the cigarette and brings his knees close to his chest. He smokes in complete silence, observing the night, the city and the few lights that are still on.

 

The feeling of Hannibal’s hand around his cock. The way he kissed his neck and marked the skin, creating poetry in Will’s body with his pointed teeth. The moment he confessed his attraction and his _love_  for Will and described what he wanted to do to him - God knows how much Will wants him to do it all. The second his lips caressed Will’s scar and Will fell from cloud nine.

 

Two weeks later, Will is still abashed. Hannibal acts casually around him, but there is always an elephant in the room. Will grunts. How long will it take Hannibal to realize Will is not the man he thought he was?

 

“Will?” Hannibal’s voice takes him from his stupor. He coughs and turns his face. Hannibal looks worried. “I am sorry to disturb you. I smelt cigarettes and got a little… surprised to know that you fancy smoking. I called you a few times, but you didn’t answer. That’s why I have opened the door. Excuse my rudeness. Are you alright?”

 

“Yes,” Will answers and nods, throwing his cigarette out of the window. Hannibal makes a face. “I can’t sleep, so I am just waiting for the morning to come. What time is it, do you know?”

 

“Three o’clock,” Hannibal answers, watching him from the door. Will looks ravishing in the moonlight. “I am having problems to sleep as well. Would you be willing to have a conversation with me?”

 

“I… Of course,” Will scratches his nape. “Come on in, please. I am sorry about the mess. My room is not nearly as tidy as yours.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Hannibal assures him. He enters the room and closes the door behind him. Will observes him walk and smiles when he sits on his bed. “Are you still angry at me, Will?”

 

“Oh, Hannibal,” Will snorts, rubbing his beard. “I am not angry at you. I never was.”

 

“What happened, then?”

 

“I panicked,” Will shrugs, biting his bottom lip. In the penumbra of the room, Hannibal thought he looked like a deity. “I thought things would get really awkward between us after that, so I decided to back off. I don’t want you to think I am--”

 

“Stop lying to me,” Hannibal cuts him, but his voice is gentle. Will’s eyes get wide. “Do you really think, Will, I would love you less because you have got a scar?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I was waiting for you to talk to me, but you have been running from me for two weeks,” Hannibal sighs. Will feels a strange need to apologize. “When I realized that you were awake, I knew I had to stop this… stupidity. After all that happened to us, Will, this… This is nothing. You look as beautiful as the day we first met.”

 

“Hannibal, stop,” Will commands, nervous. His heart beats so fast he is having trouble to speak. “You have no right.”

 

“I can’t stop, Will,” he says. “It offends me that you think I would look at you and feel anything other than love. What happened to you, his mark, well… It is a proof of what happened on that night. It is a reminder of our beginning - of your _becoming_  and of the day you made me the happiest creature alive. I am grateful for your scars. I am grateful for mine, as well. Every time I look at them in the mirror, every time I touch the place where Francis’ bullet hit me, I get more and more in love with you.”

 

“It is not about you,” Will croaks and stands up. Hannibal does the same, alarmed. “It is about me. I know what my scars say; this is not the point. I look at myself and I feel degenerate. People look at me and I can see they think it is repulsive. You, Hannibal, you are always so collected, so charming, so attractive - I am not. I was not enough before. And now… Now I don’t even know - fuck. You don’t have the right, Hannibal. You just don’t. I need to get out.”

 

Will heads to the door. Hannibal blocks his way and grabs him by the forearms. Will looks surprised and even a little scared. Hannibal shakes his head, discrediting the situation.

 

“You haven’t heard a single word I said,” Hannibal sighs. Will opens his mouth to answer, but Hannibal doesn’t let him. “I will have to show you what I mean.”

 

He kisses him. Will struggles, but Hannibal hands are like cuffs around him. The older man brings him closer to himself and presses his lips harder against Will’s, trying to calm him down. Letting go of one of his arms, he fastly holds his waist. Will sobs against his mouth, but Hannibal doesn’t move an inch.

 

“Stay with me,” he almost begs, kissing him again and again. Will closes his eyes, trying to hold back his tears. Hannibal lets go of his other arm when the boy stops fighting and involves him completely. “You never stop surprising me, Will. Come here, please.”

 

He goes. Hannibal smiles when Will lets him lead them both to the bed. They lay together and, for a long time, stay quiet. Will buries his face in Hannibal’s chest, smelling his scent, enjoying the warmness of his body. Hannibal sighs, half charmed and half broken.

 

“I find it hard to believe you don’t fall in love with yourself every time you look at the mirror,” Hannibal says, caressing his hair and kissing his forehead. Will snorts, but Hannibal goes on. “There is nothing in you that fails to amaze me, Will. I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t feel like doing, but please… May I ask you something?”

 

“Yes,” Will mumbles, face against Hannibal’s chest. “Go ahead.”

 

“Did you stop our…” Hannibal hesitates. Will laughs and he smiles, relaxing his shoulders. “Did you stop because I kissed your scar?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh, Will,” he holds him tighter and sighs, a hundred times more enamoured. “Would you let me touch you like that again? If… If I don’t touch your scar? It doesn’t bother me. On the contrary, I love it. I love you. Everything about you - really. But I promise you I will not--”

 

“Just do it,” Will mutters, feeling a sting of arousal.

 

Hannibal swallows hard. His lower body feels too hot. Will kisses his neck, shy.

 

“Make me forget. Just don’t turn the lights on.”

 

“You get even prettier in the moonlight, dear Will,” Hannibal says and bends to kiss him.

 

Their kiss is slow - so very different from the kiss they have exchanged a few weeks before. Hannibal moans when he feels Will’s tongue against his own and slips one hand to caress him under his shirt. He strokes Will’s back, loving every part of it - the absence of body hair, the softness of his skin, the smell. Oh, the smell. Everything about him smells like sin and like an invitation and Hannibal _always_  saw himself as a very controlled man but Will, Will breaks his walls. 

 

“Will,” he mutters against his lips when they part to breath. Will hums, eyes half closed, body awake. “Can I go down on you?”

 

“Fuck, Hannibal,” he moans and grabs Hannibal’s waist, kissing him again, a little stronger this time. Hannibal is happy to follow him. They part a few seconds later. “Yes. Yes.”

 

Hannibal smiles and kisses his chin, purring. He turns them and soon Will is laying on his back, watching him. He removes the younger man’s shirt and kisses his chest, slowly, licking a few droplets of sweat off his skin. Will grunts and spreads his legs a little wider - Hannibal understands the invitation. He bites his nipples and licks them, smirking when Will trembles under him.

 

Hannibal’s hand go to Will’s waistband. He plays with it for a while, enjoying the way Will writhes and pushes his hips against him. He lets go of it and goes down, kissing his clothed erection and moaning his appreciation. He presses his lips at the base of Will’s cock and sucks, earning a loud whine.

 

“Do you want me to suck you off?” Hannibal asks, his breath against Will’s groin. He latter nods, euphoric, hands grabbing the mattress. “Me too. Tell me when you feel you’re about to come. I don’t want it to be over so soon.”

 

Hannibal removes this boxers and bites back a sound when he sees Will’s cock, big and erect against his belly. He observes it for a while, mesmerized. Will covers his face and laughs, flattered and ashamed at the same time. His laugh melts into a loud moan when Hannibal licks him from root to tip hungrily.

 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice baffled by his hands. Hannibal makes a sound of approval and repeats the gesture, grabbing his thighs to offer him support - and to give himself a chance to feel more of Will’s skin.

 

He has been dreaming about things like this for years - and it is so, so much better than he thought it would be. Will feels thick and salty against his tongue, so delicious he is scared he will come untouched just by sucking him off. He licks the underside of Will’s cock again and concentrates on a succulent vein, sucking it hard. Will trembles and grabs him by the hair, rubbing his erection on Hannibal’s beautiful face. It is wild, it is dirty - and both of them adore it.

 

One of Hannibal’s hands travels to Will’s balls and he rubs them with his fingertips. Will’s respiration falters when the older man sucks his tip into his mouth while rubbing him - it feels too much, but not enough. Will rolls his eyes, moving his hips, trying to bury himself in Hannibal’s wetness, enjoying the way he sucks and licks and chokes, but never stops.

 

Hannibal is a fantastic lover.

 

Will is so lovesick he feels dizzy.

 

Hannibal’s fingers slip to Will’s hole and massages the puckered skin. Will tenses. Sensing the change, Hannibal lowers his head and licks his perineum. Will writhes again, unsure, but groans when Hannibal’s tongue finds his hole. Hannibal moans against him, enjoying the way Will pushes his body against his face. His other hand goes to Will’s cock and he masturbates him, distracting him from the pressure of Hannibal’s tongue on his most intimate part.

 

Hannibal sucks so hard Will loses his voice. He presses his eyes shut and tightens his hand, still lost in Hannibal’s strands. Hannibal understands the gesture and sucks harder, loving the way Will’s quivering thighs presses his head, denouncing his pleasure.

 

“I will come,” Will’s voice is shaky. Hannibal tightens the hand that is around his cock. “Jesus. Stop or I will come very, very soon.”

 

Hannibal stops.

 

Will wants to cry.

 

“I was right,” Hannibal mutters, mouth slick and wet. He kisses his way back to Will’s chest. “You taste as good as you smell.”

 

“God,” Will covers his face again, mortified. “I never thought you would be so indecent, Hannibal.”

 

“You are to blame,” Hannibal shrugs and kisses his abdomen, nuzzling against it. Will giggles. “Wait a moment.”

 

“What?” Will blinks when Hannibal jumps from the bed and disappears. He stays there, confused, and stares at the ceiling. Hannibal goes back a few seconds later. He deposits something on Will’s nightstand. “What was that?”

 

“You will see,” Hannibal promises and kisses him again. Will smiles against his mouth, but kisses back. Will’s hands caress Hannibal’s back and he stops their kissing to remove his shirt. He presses his face against Hannibal’s chest hair in awe.

 

“This is amazing,” he praises, rubbing his face against him. Hannibal sighs, feeling about to burst. There is something about Will that makes him weak - there are _so many things_ about Will that make him weak.

 

Will grabs the waistband of Hannibal’s pajamas pants and pushes them down. Hannibal helps him and soon he is also naked. They enjoy the way their bare bodies feel against each other and moan together, rutting and sweating. Will closes his eyes and throws his head back, loving it when Hannibal kisses and bites his neck, marking the creamy skin. It feels so wrong and so arousing Will asks for more.

 

“Later,” Hannibal murmurs, biting his bottom lip. “There is something I am dying to do.”

 

“What?” Will asks, inebriated, and blinks when Hannibal sits down again. The older man grabs the bottle he brought from the other room and opens it. “What are you doing, Hannibal?”

 

Hannibal pours lube on Will’s cock. He moans loud and grabs Hannibal’s forearm, rolling his eyes. Hannibal smiles and holds his member again, massaging it, spreading lubricant all over him.

 

“Your cock is delicious,” Hannibal confesses and Will groans, fucking the tunnel of Hannibal’s hand - made even more pleasurable now it is slippery. “I want you to finish down my throat soon. I wish you had done this already, but… I have got better plans tonight.”

 

Will wants to answer him, but his voice has disappeared. He just nods, desperate, and watches as Hannibal mounts him. The older man grabs his erection and positions it against his hole, smiling when Will’s eyes get wide.

 

“Don’t hold your voice,” he mutters before impaling himself on Will's cock slowly. He closes his eyes and moans in pain and pleasure. He stops and pants, feeling every cell of his body alight. “Fuck.”

 

Will holds his waist with shaking fingers, shocked about the whole situation. He never thought he would see Hannibal in that position. He moans, fighting the urge to buckle against him, anxious to bury himself in his tightness. Hannibal presses a little more, burying himself to the hilt. They stay immobile for a few seconds, enjoying the closeness and the heat shared. Then, Hannibal moves.

 

Will sits down and holds him tight, pushing his face against Hannibal’s chest. He helps him with his movements, loving the way their bodies fit together. He moves his hips and Hannibal cries out, pressing his body against Will’s pelvis, feeling full of Will’s cock. It’s too much. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t - he wants more. He wants much more. He grabs Will’s shoulders and moves faster. Soon he is bouncing on Will’s cock, moaning every time the younger man goes deep and asking him to fuck him harder, _harder, harder_.

 

Will throws him onto the bed. Hannibal looks surprised, but accepts it when Will spreads his legs and positions himself between them, grabbing his thighs and penetrating him again. He fucks him firmly, but so slowly Hannibal mewls, sticking his nails on Will’s shoulders. Will hisses, but doesn’t stop. He presses against him, loving the way Hannibal’s walls contract around him. He has never felt so much pleasure before, but what makes him even more delighted is the fact Hannibal is a mess. He writhes and buckles, he moans and stutters. His words are intelligible and he lost all of his composure, but he has never looked so incredibly fetching before.

 

Will holds Hannibal’s cock for the first time. Hannibal groans and fucks Will’s hand, enjoying its dryness and roughness. Will gulps and buries himself in Hannibal’s heat, so fast and deep Hannibal stops to breath for a while. He masturbates him faster and stronger, squeezing Hannibal’s cock. Hannibal’s hands go to his nape.

 

“Kiss me,” he begs. Will bends immediately and they kiss sloppily as Hannibal comes hard, moaning into their kiss.

 

Will keeps on fucking him. He goes faster and faster until Hannibal is screaming, eyes shut and mouth open. Will’s rhythm is getting erratic, but he refuses to stop. He wants to coat Hannibal’s insides - wants to feel they are one. Hannibal bites his bottom lip and holds Will’s hair, keeping their faces together.

 

“Come inside me,” Hannibal begs, voice so full of emotion Will almost blacks out. “Let me feel you inside. I want to remember you for days.”

 

“You won’t have to,” Will confesses and kisses him again, feeling close. “I want you to make you feel it all the time.”

 

“You can,” Hannibal purrs, delighted.

 

Hannibal smile is so genuine Will feels it when his heart twists. They kiss and Will comes and comes and comes - everything is pleasure and his hands are shaking and his legs are weak, but he doesn’t mind. Every part of his body is alive and tingling and he has never felt anything like that before. He collapses on Hannibal’s chest, trying to suck air into his lungs.

 

“Beautiful,” Hannibal murmurs, kissing his cheek, his hair, his shoulder. “Stay inside.”

 

“Yes,” Will promises and smiles when Hannibal brushes his lips against his scar. “I will.”

 


End file.
